LXXV The lover's tears and sighs; what time in pleasure And play we here unprofitably spend; To this, of ignorant men the eternal leisure, And vain designs, aye frustrate of their end.

Empty desires so far exceed all measure, They o'er that valley's better part extend.

There wilt thou find, if thou wilt thither post, Whatever thou on earth beneath hast lost.

LXXVI He, pa.s.sing by those heaps, on either hand, Of this and now of that the meaning sought; Formed of swollen bladders here a hill did stand, Whence he heard cries and tumults, as he thought.

These were old crowns of the a.s.syrian land And Lydian -- as that paladin was taught -- Grecian and Persian, all of ancient fame; And now, alas! well-nigh without a name.

LXXVII Golden and silver hooks to sight succeed, Heaped in a ma.s.s, the gifts which courtiers bear, -- Hoping thereby to purchase future meed -- To greedy prince and patron; many a snare, Concealed in garlands, did the warrior heed, Who heard, these signs of adulation were; And in cicalas, which their lungs had burst, Saw fulsome lays by venal poets versed.

LXXVIII Loves of unhappy end in imagery Of gold or jewelled bands he saw exprest; Then eagles' talons, the authority With which great lords their delegates invest: Bellows filled every nook, the fume and fee Wherein the favourites of kings are blest: Given to those Ganymedes that have their hour, And reft, when faded is their vernal flower.

LXXIX O'erturned, here ruined town and castle lies, With all their wealth: "The symbols" (said his guide) "Of treaties and of those conspiracies, Which their conductors seemed so ill to hide."

Serpents with female faces, felonies Of coiners and of robbers, he descried; Next broken bottles saw of many sorts, The types of servitude in sorry courts.

Lx.x.x He marks mighty pool of porridge spilled, And asks what in that symbol should be read, And hears 'twas charity, by sick men willed For distribution, after they were dead.

He pa.s.sed a heap of flowers, that erst distilled Sweet savours, and now noisome odours shed; The gift (if it may lawfully be said) Which Constantine to good Sylvester made.

Lx.x.xI A large provision, next, of twigs and lime -- Your witcheries, O women! -- he explored.

The things he witnessed, to recount in rhyme Too tedious were; were myriads on record, To sum the remnant ill should I have time.

'Tis here that all infirmities are stored, Save only Madness, seen not here at all, Which dwells below, nor leaves this earthly ball.

Lx.x.xII He turns him back, upon some days and deeds To look again, which he had lost of yore; But, save the interpreter the lesson reads, Would know them not, such different form they wore.

He next saw that which man so little needs, -- As it appears -- none pray to Heaven for more; I speak of sense, whereof a lofty mount Alone surpast all else which I recount.

Lx.x.xIII It was as 'twere a liquor soft and thin, Which, save well corked, would from the vase have drained; Laid up, and treasured various flasks within, Larger or lesser, to that use ordained.

That largest was which of the paladin, Anglantes' lord, the mighty sense contained; And from those others was discerned, since writ Upon the vessel was ORLANDO'S WIT.

Lx.x.xIV The names of those whose wits therein were pent He thus on all those other flasks espied.

Much of his own, but with more wonderment, The sense of many others he descried, Who, he believed, no dram of theirs had spent; But here, by tokens clear was satisfied, That scantily therewith were they purveyed; So large the quant.i.ty he here surveyed.

Lx.x.xV Some waste on love, some seeking honour, lose Their wits, some, scowering seas, for merchandise, Some, that on wealthy lords their hope repose, And some, befooled by silly sorceries; These upon pictures, upon jewels those; These on whatever else they highest prize.

Astrologers' and sophists' wits mid these, And many a poet's too, Astolpho sees.

Lx.x.xVI Since his consent the apostle signified Who wrote the obscure Apocalypse, his own He took, and only to his nose applied, When (it appeared) it to its place was gone; And henceforth, has Sir Turpin certified, That long time sagely lived king Otho's son; Till other error (as he says) again Deprived the gentle baron of his brain.

Lx.x.xVII The fullest vessel and of amplest round Which held the wit Orlando erst possessed, Astolpho took; nor this so light he found, As it appeared, when piled among the rest.

Before, from those bright spheres, now earthward bound, His course is to our lower orb addressed, Him to a s.p.a.cious palace, by whose side A river ran, conducts his holy guide.

Lx.x.xVIII Filled full of fleeces all its chambers were, Of wool, silk, linen, cotton, in their hue, Of diverse dyes and colours, foul and fair.

Yarns to her reel from all those fleeces drew, In the outer porch, a dame of h.o.a.ry hair.

On summer-day thus village wife we view, When the new silk is reeled, its filmy twine Wind from the worm, and soak the slender line.

Lx.x.xIX A second dame replaced the work when done With other; and one bore it off elsewhere; A third selected from the fleeces spun, And mingled by that second, foul from fair.

"What is this labour?" said the peer to John; And the disciple answered Otho's heir, "Know that the Parcae are those ancient wives, That in this fashion spin your feeble lives.

XC "As long as one fleece lasts, life in such wise Endureth, nor outlasts it by a thought.

For Death and Nature have their watchful eyes On the hour when each should to his end be brought.

The choicest threads are culled for Paradise, And, after, for its ornaments are wrought; And fashioned from the strands of foulest show Are galling fetters for the d.a.m.ned below."

XCI On all the fleeces that erewhile were laid Upon the reel, and culled for other care, The names were graved on little plates, which made Of silver, or of gold, or iron, were, These piled in many heaps he next surveyed; Whence an old man some skins was seen to bear, Who, seemingly unwearied, hurried sore, His restless way retracing evermore.

XCII That elder is so nimble and so prest, That he seems born to run; he bears away Out of those heaps by lapfulls in his vest The tickets that the different names display.

Wherefore and whither he his steps addrest, To you I shall in other canto say, If you, in sign of pleasure, will attend, With that kind audience ye are wont to lend.

CANTO 35

ARGUMENT The apostle praises authors to the peer.

Duke Aymon's martial daughter in affray, Conquers the giant monarch of Argier, And of the good Frontino makes a prey.

She next from Arles defies her cavalier, And, while he marvels who would him a.s.say, Grandonio and Ferrau she with her hand And Serpentine unhorses on the strand.

I Madonna, who will scale the high ascent Of heaven, to me my judgment to restore, Which, since from your bright eyes the weapon went, That pierced my heart, is wasting evermore?

Yet will not I such mighty loss lament, So that it drain no faster than before; But -- ebbing further -- I should fear to be Such as Orlando is described by me.

II To have anew that judgment, through the skies, I deem there is no need for me to fly To the moon's circle, or to Paradise; For, I believe, mine is not lodged so high.

On your bright visage, on your beauteous eyes, Alabastrine neck, and paps of ivory, Wander my wits, and I with busy lip, If I may have them back, these fain would sip.

III Astolpho wandered through that palace wide, Observing al the future lives around: When those already woven he had spied Upon the fatal wheel for finish wound, He a fair fleece discerned that far outvied Fine gold, whose wondrous l.u.s.tre jewels ground, Could these into a thread be drawn by art, Would never equal by the thousandth part.

IV The beauteous fleece he saw with wondrous glee Equalled by none amid that countless store; And when and whose such glorious life should be, Longed sore to know. "This," (said the apostle h.o.a.r, Concealing nothing of its history,) "Shall have existence twenty years before, Dating from THE INCARNATE WORD, the year Shall marked my men with M and D appear;

V "And, as for splendor and for substance fair, This fleece shall have no like or equal, so Shall the blest age wherein it shall appear Be singular in this our world below; Because all graces, excellent and rare, Which Nature or which Study can bestow, Or bounteous Fortune upon men can shower, Shall be its certain and eternal dower.

VI "Between the king of rivers' horns," (he cries,) "Stands what is now a small and humble town.

Before it runs the Po, behind it lies A misty pool of marsh; this -- looking down The stream of future years -- I recognize First of Italian cities of renown; Not only famed for wall and palace rare, But n.o.ble ways of life and studies fair.

VII "Such exaltation, reached so suddenly, Is not fortuitous nor wrought in vain; But that is may his worthy cradle be, Whereof I speak, shall so the heaven ordain.

For where men look for fruit they graff the tree, And study still the rising plant to train; And artist uses to refine the gold Designed by him the precious gem to hold.

VIII "Nor ever, in terrestrial realm, so fine And fair a raiment spirit did invest, And rarely soul so great from realms divine Has been, or will be, thitherward addrest, As that whereof THE ETERNAL had design To fashion good Hippolytus of Este: Hippolytus of Este shall he be hight, On whom so rich a gift of G.o.d shall light.

IX "All those fair graces, that, on many spent, Would have served many wholly to array, Are all united for his ornament, Of whom thou hast entreated me to say.

To prop the arts, the virtues is he sent; And should I seek his merits to display, So long a time would last my tedious strain, Orlando might expect his wits in vain."

X 'Twas so Christ's servant with the cavalier Discoursed; they having satisfied their view With sight of that fair mansion, far and near, That whence conveyed were human lives, the two Issued upon the stream, whose waves appear Turbid with sand and of discoloured hue; And found that ancient man upon the sh.o.r.e, Who names, engraved on metal, thither bore.

XI I know not if you recollect; of him I speak, whose story I erewhile suspended, Ancient of visage, and so swift of limb, That faster far than forest stag he wended.

With names he filled his mantle to the brim, Aye thinned the pile, but ne'er his labour ended; And in that stream, hight Lethe, next bestowed, Yea, rather cast away, his costly load.

XII I say, that when upon the river side Arrives that ancient, of his store profuse, He all those names into the turbid tide Discharges, as he shakes his mantle loose.

A countless shoal, they in the stream subside; Nor henceforth are they fit for any use; And, out of mighty myriads, hardly one Is saved of those which waves and sand o'errun.

XIII Along that river and around it fly Vile crows and ravening vultures, and a crew Of choughs, and more, that with discordant cry And deafening din their airy flight pursue; And to the prey all hurry, when from high Those ample riches they so scattered view; And with their beak or talon seize the prey: Yet little distance they their prize convey.

XIV When they would raise themselves in upward flight, They have not strength the burden to sustain; So that parforce in Lethe's water light The worthy names, which lasting praise should gain.

Two swans there are amid those birds, as white, My lord, as is your banner's snowy grain; Who catch what names they can, and evermore With these return securely to the sh.o.r.e.

XV Thus, counter to that ancient's will malign, Who them to the devouring river dooms, Some names are rescued by the birds benign; Wasteful Oblivion all the rest consumes.

Now swim about the stream those swans divine, Now beat the buxom air with nimble plumes, Till, near that impious river's bank, they gain A hill, and on that hill a hallowed fane.